Once again, the French demonstrate the art of living the good life.
While we Pennsylvanians are getting up at midnight in sub-zero temperatures to watch a rodent pulled out of a log, the French are celebrating Feb 2 by sitting down to crepes.
I thought pancakes were just for the ‘oh no, Lent is almost here, time to give something up’ energy of Shrove Tuesday/Pancake Day, but today I discovered that the French also make a point of celebrating Feb 2 with pancakes, because it is Candlemas.
A Memory
I remember being taken to church and given a drippy candle and never being quite sure why, once a year, as a child, but I loved it.
Turns out, Candlemas marks the official end of the Christmas season (yes, the Christmas season starts at Christmas and goes until now. Catholic churches, unlike retail temples, are quiet and undecorated through Advent, until the Christmas masses, then they are a riot of candles and greenery and fancy vestments, and “Happy Christmas” greetings all the way through January.)
It also marks the return of the light, hence the candle-based shenanigans.
I am reliably informed (by my friends who pay attention to the longer-lived, nature-based holidays that Christianity often co-opted and incorporated into its own calendars), that this is Imbolc, a holiday that celebrates the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox.
Another memory
Many half-awake mornings on the school bus for the 45 minute ride to school, through Ayrshire’s arable land; shocked, in the cold, dark of this time of year, to see tiny wee lambs pa-doinging around in the fields.
But apparently this is what Imbolc or Candlemas is also about: it’s a time for animals to give birth and to give milk.
February (usually a little later than this) and March were a big time for lambs, which only shocked me because I spent the first nine years of my life in the paved paradise of ex-urban London before being transplanted to the rolling fields of Ayrshire, famous for its production of potatoes and lamb. (And golf, but that’s not edible so I was less interested.)
An aside: This background is probably why I laughed so hard at Terry Pratchett’s Vimes character wondering why we teach city kids that animals say ‘moo’ and ‘bah’ when, in the city, what they mostly say is ‘sizzle’!
Back to the point: New life and new milk must have seemed like such a relief in the days before supermarkets and vacuum-packed-everything. I can see why you’d spare some of that milk to mix up a batch of pancakes.
We Are Part of Nature
I think it’s probably a good idea to pay attention to the rhythms of nature.
Yes it’s (way below) freezing outside, and has been for a couple of weeks, but even though I haven’t been out much, I do feel the light pulling at me. Pulling me–and my mood–upwards.
Meanwhile in Pennsylvania
Dammit, Phil!
